Dear Children on a Saturday Morning,
I love you. I do truly love you with all of my heart. Just not at 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning. I love my sleep then. READ MORE
I don’t think I’m ever one to second-guess other parents … until Halloween.
On All Hallows Eve, I transform into Judge Judge-y McJudgerson.
I am that mom. The one who cuts her kids off from trick-or-treating about the time they’re elbowing their way into puberty. I’m not following any developmental guidebook, and I haven’t looked up any studies on kids who later needed therapy because their moms put the kibosh on the candy corn prematurely. It’s just one of the many rules I was raised with that I have arbitrarily selected to enforce on my own progeny. READ MORE
This is my future. Look at it. Is it a photo of a purse with faux fur on it? Yes, yes it is.
Is it adorable? Yes, but that’s not the point. And the blinged out phone cover? Also adorable, but also gaudy, no?
The point is this: I’m turning into my mother.
Don’t get my wrong, I tolerate love my mother, so turning into her is isn’t a bad thing.
But so soon? So quickly?
I figured I’d be at least late 50s before the resemblences started creeping in. Apparently not. READ MORE